Easy Go
by DearJanuary
Summary: Eli, Zig, Dallas, Drew, and Luke graduated from Degrasssi ages ago and moved on with their lives. The one thing they never learned was how difficult fatherhood would be. Feat: other Degrassi characters as well.
1. Wake Me Up

**Note: Just because a character isn't in the story yet doesn't mean that they won't make an appearance later and just because someone is with one person now or in a situation now, they might not be for the whole story. I love constructive criticism, but don't be rude just because you simply don't like something. Thank you. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Degrassi, just the original characters.**

1. **Feeling my way through the darkness **

Mostly heading behind the curtains stage left, the actors carried their folded and heavily highlighted scripts off as soon as director, Eli Goldsworthy, dismissed them for lunch. He was known for working everyone to the bone, pulling excellence from his cast even if it meant their stomachs were growling louder than the chorus. His mind was elsewhere today. Groaning behind grit teeth, Eli turned his back to the stage and gripped his brown locks that sat in different directions carelessly on top his head. His eyes shifted upwards when they opened, hopeful that the four year old version of his son would be sitting up there like he used to. Nolan Goldsworthy used to spend his pre-preschool days up on the audience balcony of the Princess of Wales theatre in downtown Toronto, scribbling pirates and monkeys in crayon or zooming his Hot Wheels around on the carpet while his parents rehearsed their show. Eli thought it could never be any better, his small family and work combined happily. While he was no stranger to pain, he hadn't been prepared for things to fall apart like they had. Nolan never came by anymore. Eli hadn't the slightest clue what his son was interested in now.

Spinning around in his forever scuffed black shoes, Eli set his eyes on the stage and exhaled. The second week of rehearsal was generally smoother than it was currently going. With her legs kicking off the edge of the stage, he spotted her, long blond hair tied up on top of her head like a white oversized fondant flower on a wedding cake. She had her script open on the ground beside her and a peeled banana in one hand, her focus mostly on the script.

Holding his hips like he always did when he was feeling stressed, Eli headed down the theatre's aisle towards his wife..ex-wife...kind of almost ex-wife. He didn't know what they were to one another now. They were friends in a loose sense of the word, a director and his actress/former muse. They had been separated for nearly two years, but neither were in a rush to file divorce papers. They weren't looking to reconcile either, the two of them had always done things abnormally.

"Eli," She looked up with almond blue eyes that always stunned him, even after knowing each other sixteen years. "Look," She opened her empty palm in front of him and swallowed her bite of banana. "you know, I'll have the monologue ready. It's your blocking changes, they've thrown my memorization off." She explained with animated hand gestures.

"I know. I'm not worried." Plainly, very out of character for him, he nodded. Stephanie was a beloved talent in the Toronto theatre circuit. Before separating, they worked together on all their projects. He knew she could handle the role of Maxine in _The Night of the Iguana._ "Actually, I just wondering if you gave any thought to my email...the one about Nolan."

She stated at him with pursed lips for a moment, waiting to see if he was being serious or not.

"My thought on it is that it was very long." Bluntly, she stated, looking down at her script and taking another piece of banana into her mouth. Leave it to Eli to type out three pages in twelve minutes. It had been about his son though, the one thing in the world he was more passionate about than directing. "You rambled."

"So, you don't think there's anything to consider?" Sucking in his chest, he kept trying, gripping his sides with pale fingers. "I'm really concerned, Stephanie. I think I see signs -"

"Just because a teenager is moody and sleeps a lot doesn't mean they're bipolar, Eli. It means they're fifteen." She rebutted, her usual fairy-like presence replaced with a sharp serious expression, as blunt as an axe cut in a tree trunk.

"It's very possible that it's been passed down to him through genetics - "

She cut him off again, "You're giving yourself too much credit, Eli."

He really didn't want to fight, he lacked the energy after being up all night reading about the disorder that had plagued his life for so long, thinking about his son, and working on the play. Eli tried to keep compose, breathing slowly out his nostrils and dropping his head for a collective moment before looking back up at Stephanie. She placed her banana peel next to her script and picked it up with both hands.

"Clare wrote an article last week, it was about a rise in teenage bipolar depression, especially in males, and all I'm asking is we have him tested."

Stephanie narrowed her eyes on Eli, right in the middle of his face, and leaned as close as she could without slipping off the stage or coming in physical contact with him.

"Clare is a journalist, not a doctor. The last article I read by her was about Michael Fassbender's work in Ghana." Stephanie had no problem with Eli's high school girlfriend. In fact, the two women had laughed at cocktail parties for Eli's shows a handful of times. She liked Clare Edwards just fine, but she always felt like Eli took her more seriously. After all, Clare was a published journalist and Stephanie was just a blond actress. "She's also not his mother."

"I meant no disrespect, Steph, but let's take him to Dr. Huxley, just to see." Maybe it was nothing, but Eli had felt deeply that it wasn't.

"I'll think about it." Reluctantly, she told him before slipping off the stage, leaving her banana behind her. "I'll be in my dressing room. Don't follow me." Their chests against one another's she told him and then tugged on the bottom of her sheer black blouse, adjusting it over her body. She knew Eli well enough to know how persistent he could be when he felt strongly about something.

2. **Guided by a beating heart**

"Where are my girls?" His whole face came together in wrinkles as he closed the back door behind him. Slowly, Luke stepped out of his leather work shoes and dropped his briefcase, looking for any signs of life in his home. Silence was a rare thing in the Baker house. His wife was generally in the kitchen when he arrived home, the sound of a sizzling pan singing to him as he walked in. Sadie usually sauntered over, just barely three and a half feet, all smiles and loud exclamations that her daddy was home. Often, his sister Becky was over too and talking without breath.

Luke carefully stepped into the empty kitchen, the oven not even on, and looked around for any proof that someone had been in there recently. Next, he popped his head into the living room, it it was unlit and frozen. He skipped steps as he headed up the carpeted stairs, loosening his tie and undoing the top two buttons as he did. The doors were all closed, but he could hear faint music coming from the room of his stepdaughter, Mika. He laid a set of knuckles against the door lightly and waited for permission. It was his house and Luke didn't feel like he should have to knock, but Mika was thirteen now and his wife insisted that she needed some privacy considering puberty was now in full force. After knocking once more, Luke opened the door slightly and stuck his head in, eyes clenched shut.

"It's just me." He informed happily.

"I know. That's why I didn't answer." Sitting teepee style on her unmade bed, Mika sat with her laptop open to YouTube, watching the video to one of her recent favourite songs.

He assumed he could open his eyes and slowly did, glad to find her fully clothed in jeans and an oversized red sweater with white stars all over it.

"Where's your mom?" He asked nervous to inquire about anything vaguely personal like how her day was or if she had much homework. Luke had come into Mika's life when she was around seven and he always tried to make it obvious how much he cared for her, but she never really let him in. She kept a thick brick wall between them at all times.

"Around." She told him without looking away from the screen.

Luke was about to tell her to turn off the music and do her homework until her ringette game, but he stopped himself. He started to close the door to leave, but spotted her hardcover bible for teens in the waste basket by her vanity and let the door open completely, walking in as if the mauve coloured room was his.

"What's this doing in here, Mika?" His face pale with surprise, he turned and asked her after retrieving the book, holding it up over his shoulder.

"It's garbage." She mumbled, pulling brown locks behind her hoop pierced ear that kept falling like it was part of a milk chocolate waterfall.

He couldn't believe the blasphemy coming out of her glossed pink lips so effortlessly.

"Mika, don't say that. Not in my house." He warned, imagining how his father would react if he was watching this scene play out. "This is very important to me." She didn't seem to care since she didn't react at all, just moving her finger around on her laptop and started the song up again. "You know, I met your mother in a church."

"Yeah, because she was trying to get over my _actual_ dad." As round as they were dark brown, like two Oreo cookies, Mika's eyes glared at him when she finally looked up from her laptop, hoping he would take the hint that she didn't want to talk to him and she didn't want to read the stupid Bible he gave her. It was bad enough he forced her to attend church on Sundays. Luke put the book down loudly on her vanity next to a wooden jewellery box and saw the picture of her biological father taped to the bottom of the mirror. There was a Polaroid of a baby Mika as well in the arms of her mother, but nothing of Luke. A selfie style shot of Mika with Sadie laughing on her knees, but no proof that he was in her life was to be seen.

"Turn down your music. It's trash." Somehow, he managed to tell her, hating that she poisoned his house with hip hop noise. "Make sure you finish your homework before ringette." Quietly, he told her before walking out and closing the door behind him. Miraculously, the music stopped.

"Hey!" A soft breath caught him off guard as his pint-sized wife emerged from their other daughter's room, carrying a small wicker laundry basket under one arm. She reached up on her bare tip toes and met his chapped lips for a 'hello' kiss. "You okay? You looked stressed." She announced, studying his woebegone expression.

"Just...work." He told her. It wasn't a lie since his day at the office had been busy. It seemed like everyone and their dog was breaking their backs these days and required a chiropractor. He didn't want to bug Michelle with complaints about Mika's attitude. He talked to her about the night before and the night before that. Briefly, while still in college, Luke had been married before. A waifish redhead named Ellen who his parents set him up with. She used to always say he complained too much and it drove her crazy. While he and Michelle were nothing like he and his first wife, he took that note into account and kept his mouth shut.

"Ah. Well, come downstairs and tell me about it." She scooted past him, her hips moving left to right at metronome while she did. "Sadie fell asleep on the way home." She had taken their small daughter to the park for tepee afternoon and now she was tuckered right out.

"Well, I'm not starving." Mischievously, Luke told his wife through a sly smile and snaked one arm over the free side of her waist, causing her to laugh as he put a small kiss on her jaw.

"I was going to do laundry, not cook." She informed him as he took the basket from her and started warming up her neck with his mouth.

"We've never done it in there." He pointed out with a grin, glad she was agreeable as she took his hand in her own and moved down the stairs in a rush towards the basement where their laundry room was located.

3.** I can't tell where the journey will end, but I know where to start**

He should have told his mom to come.

She offered twice, but both times, Drew declined. He hadn't seen Jewel since going out to Calgary for a couple weeks in the summer and he wanted some time alone with his fifteen year old daughter. However, this was a horse of a different colour. This wasn't like one of their quick evening chats over Skype or a holiday visit. Jewel was moving into his loft with him. She was uprooting her entire life and planting it in his. They hadn't lived together since she was two. Since he and Jewel's mother were only ever dating and never very serious, it didn't make sense for them to make their lives one unit. Now, Jewel was a teenager and Drew had barely talked to her in the recent days. She wasn't chatty anymore. Jewel Torres was always an introvert, but she didn't keep things from her father. He was always quite proud of their relationship. He fancied himself a very cool dad, but he knew she was changing. After her mother's funeral, just over a month ago, he could see it in Jewel's eyes that had always been identical to his, that she wasn't okay anymore.

His mother would have known how to handle the situation. She was the one that Jewel spoke to the most when they flew out to Alberta for the burial service. He pulled out his cell to call Audra, but a sea of people flooded through the automatic doors and he shoved it back into the pocket of his slate slacks, expecting to spot Jewel at any moment.

With a bag of luggage rolling behind her and a floral bag thrown over one shoulder, Jewel stood still as the crowd raced around her. She was wearing in a black slip dress under a white hand knit cardigan that had previously been her mother's. Drew just watched his little girl for a moment, looking sort of like an earth angel without a single hint of makeup on her face. She was an even mixture of him and her mother, but her clothing was hanging off her frame now. He had never seen her so thin before. It caught him off guard, but her other grandma had warned him over the phone that her appetite was small since her mother died.

"Hey! Over here!" He waved his hands up over his head and shouted out to her, noticing that she was about to be barrelled over by aggressive passengers. Jewel's trance stopped and she found her Dad right away, waving at her like a castaway would to a helicopter. The corners of her lips lifted slightly and she headed to him slowly.

Drew always started to glow when he saw Jewel. She really was his pride and joy even though he had been terrified and uneasy about having a baby when he heard his girlfriend was pregnant all those years ago. He saw that she still wore the long gold locket he gave her on her twelfth birthday and then devoured her in a bear hug, groaning as he gripped her by the shoulders and held her to his chest.

"How was the flight, baby?" He asked, having never called another girl that since Jewel was born. "Nobody bothered you, I hope." She had flown alone plenty of times since she had to travel to visit him on spring break and sometimes for Christmas, but Drew always worried. Watching Taken was the dumbest move he had ever made, but he was confident he had an inner Liam Neeson in him that could be tapped for if anything, God forbid, happened to his little girl.

"It was fine. Just like every flight." Her voice was low and muffled against his light blue dress shirt. He let her go with a nervous chuckle and quickly started to take her bags from her, throwing the flower bag over his shoulder. Jewel reached up and combed her French braid down her back, a little worried he may have made it static-y by accident. She could see a few girls checking him out, rubbing their lips together. Jewel had seen this happen her whole life. Women always flirted with her Dad, no matter where they were, but now that she was going to be living with him, she was going to be in the middle of it a lot more. She wondered if he had a girlfriend or anybody in his life. She hoped not, that part of his world has always been private from her and Jewel wanted it to stay that way.

"Well everybody's really excited for you to be here." Drew told her as he led the way through the airport, checking over his shoulder to make sure she was with him. "Your grandparents want to see you right away, I stocked the fridge with your favourites," he hoped they were still her favourites. "Your Uncle Mike came over and painted your room and helped me set it up." Of course, Dallas had helped for separate reasons, he just needed to get out of his house, but Drew still couldn't have done it without his best friend. "I hope you still like teddy bears." Completely seriously, he told her as they walked through they car park towards his truck. Jewel didn't react, her mind obviously elsewhere. "I'm kidding!" Drew shouted, tossing her rolling suitcase into the bed of his red pickup. "I know you're not a little kid anymore." He tried to be cool, but it didn't feel as easy anymore. She wasn't a little girl anymore even if she would always feel that way to him.

Drew opened up the passenger side and placed the floral bag on the floor, waiting for Jewel to climb in. He watched her fondly, reaching to lock her seatbelt over her. She grabbed hold of her bare knees and waited for her dad to close the door, but he never did. She stared back at him, uncomfortable by the crooked smile on his face.

"Dad, are you having a stroke?" She came right out and asked.

"No!" Drew shouted. "No." He snapped out of it and just laughed at himself. "I'm just so happy you're here." He was about to close the door, but thought twice and stayed put. "You know you can talk to me, right? About anything?" Drew knew what it was like to lose someone you love. He had been young like Jewel when Adam died, but he wasn't sure what it was like to lose a parent, but he knew that she was going through a lot and he planned to be there completely.

"I know." She assured him, matching his smile with her own. "I'm fine." She didn't sound honest though and it seemed to Drew like she was just trying to convince herself.

Drew hoped she was the same though. The quite horseback riding girl who was self sufficient from the time she discovered how to climb out of her baby proofed crib. While he wasn't a spiritual guy, he spent a lot of time praying in preparation Jewel's Toronto arrival, praying that he would be good at this new chapter.

**4. They say I'm caught up in a dream**

When she was little, she wanted to learn the piano. She would plunk the keys of her plastic Fisher Price piano for hours on end in the middle of his and his then wife's bed while he tried to sleep, exhausted from night shifts but enjoying spending quality time with his little girl. Zig wondered if she still had an inkling to learn, he couldn't afford lessons or even a keyboard back then. They were struggling since the pregnancy was unplanned, they always said they would wait years into marriage before having children. Zig was a security guard at the time, spending his time watching cameras and stalking through the halls of the Art Gallery of Ontario, his wife in school and studying to be a legal assistant. He still wasn't rich, but he could manage lessons now. He was head of the security team now and worked bigger jobs all over the city, he was even considering applying for the police academy lately.

Zig hoped that his daughter still wanted to learn an instrument. Music was such a big part of his life and he was eager to have something to bond over with her again. When they met up for pizza now or she came over to his place, he just couldn't climb the teenage walls she built of angst and impulse. She seemed so embarrassed by him now.

He couldn't think of any time where Mika showed interest in sports, but ever since her mother took up with ultra Christian, Luke Baker, Mika was glued to a pair of skates. Not unlike hockey, ringette was and expensive sport to be involved in, but Zig knew it was just chump change to Luke the Chiropractor.

Bundled up and still cold, he sat on a bleacher next to the couple he always saw at games. They had driven Mika over to his place countless times even though Mika made it plain she was mortified to have a Dad who lived in such a poor end of town.

As soon as he sat down, one hand in the pocket of his security jacket while the other, gloved, wrapped around a paper coffee cup. He saw his ex, Michelle, approaching from out the corner of his eyes. Internally, he groaned. She was holding the hand of her other daughter, a blond American Girl doll, Sadie. She waved kindly at him and sat on the bench below, right at his feet, while greeting everyone around. Michelle had always been sweet. Everyone told him that he was too good for him, but now that she was more Christian than a nun on Easter, she radiated an unattainable kindness that pissed Zig off. How could anyone match it?

"Hi Mr. Zig." The permanent reminder that Michelle had moved on waved at him, a green apple sucker staining her small lips.

Zig nodded down at her, his lips tight lipped and cold. Sadie looked more like Luke unfortunately, but Zig hoped, for her sake, she would grow out of it.

"Hey, I didn't think you would make it this week!" Michelle exclaimed much to his dismay.

"Why not? I'm always here." He might not have liked ice sports, but he would always support Mika - even if one day she decided she wanted to collect bugs.

"I heard there is a Birks diamond exhibit starting at one of the museums. It's supposed to be very high security."

"Nah, I'm at Rogers Centre right now." He watched over his exe's head as the girls from both teams skated onto the ice. As soon as Zig spotted his last name in bold print on the back of a blue jersey, he grinned proudly. She might have lived with Luke Baker, but she would always be a Novak.

"That's so great. Will you be there on Friday?" Fixing a fluffy hat on top of Sadie's head, Michelle asked excitedly.

"Yep. All night. I'll pick Mika up after." It was his weekend with her after all.

"Actually, Luke has tickets. His work has a box, so he was going to take her to the game. So, she can just go with you after that."

Of course, Luke had box seats to the Maple Leafs games. He was loaded. Zig worked at the arena and he still couldn't even score nosebleed seats to the game. He wished he could take his daughter to a game, but it just wasn't possible right now. Looking up, Zig glared across the rink at the benches. Luke was standing happily, talking to the girls along with the other coach. Without trying, he resented Luke Baker. He felt like he should have been able to give her all the opportunities Luke did, he as Mika's father. Standing next to Luke, he must have seemed like a real loser.

"You know, Luke is really trying to get closer to Mika. He wants a good relationship with her." Michelle chatted, not knowing the power behind her words. "Maybe if you talked positively about him to her, she would feel like she could have one." Innocently she suggested.

"Mika seems to like him just fine." That's how it appeared to Zig. His daughter practically sprinted out of his apartment building to her stepdad's SUV when he picked her up. He wished Mika didn't like him, even though he knew that was immature and selfish.

5. **Wake me up when it's all over**

He had finally finished studying for his Calculus test and Wes Dallas's brain was all, but fried. He sat cloaked in darkness, sprawled out wide on the living room couch. His mother had gone to bed as soon as she came home and he didn't know where his dad was. The house was practically a ghost town since Pratt passed. The pictures of his twin, younger by six and a half minutes were all hidden now and sometimes, to Wesley, it felt like his parents couldn't even look at him since he and his brother should have been identical. They weren't, but most people thought they were. His brother had been with him for all of his life, minus those six and a half minutes, so Wes couldn't wrap his head around how his parent's never wanted to talk about him. They acted as if Wes had always been an only child. His science teacher, Miss Bhandari asked him about Pratt, always gave Wesley little mementos of his twin or told her favorite stories about the twins, so Wesley found himself spending more time at school than at home these days.

Since he was by himself, he opened up his laptop and played his favourite video of he and his brother, the two of them at their forth birthday party, a basketball theme. Wes wasn't sure why that was the theme, but imagined his dad had picked it. Wes favoured things that challenged his mind like history and reading. Pratt was the athlete. It was never said out loud, but Pratt was their dad's pride. He saw himself in Pratt. Pratt could win with a slap shot, a dunk, a high kick, you name it. Wes wondered sometimes if his Dad could have chosen, if Wes would have been the son who died.

On the computer screen, Pratt had his lanky little arms wrapped around Wes's neck, both of them donning purple Raptors jerseys. Ten of their small friends, almost all male, rushed around them in on the stone backyard patio. The Dallas family had a privileged life with their father the athletic therapist for the Toronto soccer team and their mother, a real estate agent in the Yorkville neighbourhood. The boys were spared no expense growing up and their birthday party playing before Wes's brown eyes showed that to be true.

He heard keys jingling closer and closer suddenly, but he hadn't heard the door open and close or even a car outside. He turned around and let his eyes adjust to his father standing tall in the dark. While Mike Dallas was still functioning at work fine since the death of his boy, he was a hollow version of himself when not distracted and, these days, there was never enough to occupy him. He had been hanging out at Drew's place often, helping him prepare for his daughter's arrival, but he was backing off now that she was had come in.

He stared back at his father, but their eyes never met. Mike was too focused on the screen behind Wesley, the sound of the blissful young boys laughing as they unwrapped gifts from their friends.

"Mom left your dinner in the fridge." Wes told the shadowy version of his father.

The Dallas family used to try and have a couple family meals a week, but they were always all so busy with their respective lives. Since Pratt passed three months ago, they rarely all age together and when they did it was silent. All the things that used to exist in the Dallas family had vanished. His mother used to be a force to be reckoned with and now she was just a sad sluggish shell. His dad was the liveliest guy into the neighbourhood and now he was walking dead.

"Turn that off." Monotone, Mike instructed firmly from behind the living room couch. The sight of his now deceased son as a little boy was too much, the sound of his pre-pubescent voice taunting him.

"I want to see him." Looking back at the screen, Wes whispered.

"Wes, just turn it off." Mike exhaled and went to go to the fridge, but Wes didn't listen. The teenager was usually more obedient, but not tonight.

Mike left his empty body and found himself in the living room near Wes, his hands lowering to the coffee table before picking up the laptop and smashing it across the hardwood floor with a simple toss. The screen went to black immediately same keyboard shook and pieces jumped off the machine.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Wes jumped up and shouted. That was his laptop! His life was held inside of it and his dad had just destroyed everything.

"I said turn it off!" Mike stepped right into his boy's face and shouted even louder, his mouth in the shape of a capital 'o' as his body shook with fury.

"You're a fucking psycho." Wes dared to say and took off downstairs to where his room was, leaving his homework behind.

It scared Mike, but he actually reached forward to grab Wes. He was considering smack him, but he managed to stay put. He heard the basement door slam and he fell to the middle of the couch with ships hands between his knees. Mike sighed for a moment, trying to remember how to breathe, and then sobbed. He needed help. He didn't know what he was doing anymore. He wondered if he was a total failure as a parent and a husband and if anyone else felt the confusion and despair he did. Strangely, he hoped so

**AN: this was an introduction, but I'm very excited about this story. The characters will all interact with one another and other people from Degrassi will come into the plots. Please review. I love reviews.**


	2. Trying

**1. Be transparent for a while**

Leaning forward, arms folded over the edge of her stepfather's private box, Mika watched as the Maple Leaf ice hockey players circled around the ice, warming up in their blue jerseys not unlike the one she was wearing with "Novak" written on the back, a gift from Luke a few birthdays ago.

Luke stood nervously next to her, unsure when the last time he and Mika did anything alone was. He gripped the bottle of Moosehead tightly for support as he wondered what his wife must have said to the teenager to make her come along to the game with him. Luke swallowed around the lump in his throat while struggling to come up with something to say. She looked like her father as she stared blandly down at the hockey rink. Her large brown eyes refusing to utilize their shine, her bottom lip naturally jetting out into a pout, while she rested her chin onto her arms. Luke always thought that if Mika cut her shoulder length locks to a pixie cut, she would be the spitting image of Zig Novak.

He channeled his inner Becky and opened up his mouth to speak to her, planning to go with whatever came out, but just as the first syllable sounded so did the unmistakeable voice of Mike Dallas. Both Luke and Mika turned around quickly and spotted the sight of the jolly man. It was surprising to see him enter the room with such optimism and with his arms wide open considering the loss of one of his children. Mika's nose wrinkled at the smile on Mike's face, but Luke managed to hide his confusion and moved to greet his former teammate with a hand grip and a beer. He didn't frown at him until he spotted the short director next to him, Eli Goldsworthy, who he hadn't seen outside of a newspaper since high school.

"Hope you don't mind I brought a friend." Vivaciously, Dallas squeezed Eli's shoulder.

Eli was well aware that Dallas probably wasn't sharing with his friends that they had been spending time together. When his son's death was fresher and Dallas was ready to take his own life, he reached out to Eli, the boy they considered the unofficial "King of Death". While Dallas wasn't coping well by any stretch of the imagination, Eli had been a great friend to him.

"No, it's fine, I just..." Luke swung the beer into Dallas's hand as soon as it left Eli's shoulder. "I thought you were bringing Wes."

"He didn't want to come." Dallas shrugged, purposefully leaving out that Wes wasn't talking to him right now because he destroyed his laptop.

"Huh. That's too bad." Luke pensively said. He thought it would be helpful if his friends fought their kids, might help Mika feel relaxed and open up. It was a bit of a long shot, but Luke had always been fanciful. "What about your son..." He furrowed his brows together at Eli, trying to remember what little he knew of the director. He remembered hearing he had a kid in passing. They were in the paper along with his actress wife/ex wife/whatever she was. "Noah?" He guessed.

"Nolan." Eli politely corrected. "I asked, but he had something else to do." He explained before taking Luke up on his offer for a beer.

Sleep was the only thing Nolan wanted to do. He lived with his headphones on and with his laptop on his lap, the rest of the room he confined himself to his bedroom and did a lot of sleeping or just lying still on his bed. Eli tried to talk to his kid about it, but Nolan waved him away the same way Eli used to shrug off his own parents. Still, he was going to keep trying when he got home.

"Eli, this is Mika, my daughter - " Luke introduced, tapping the thirteen year old on the shoulder as the men were sitting down trying to capture her attention.

"I'm not." Softly, Mika replied and gave Eli half a smile before acknowledging Dallas with a smile. She liked Dallas, he always asked her a variety of questions when he came over to her house to visit and told her that she was going to break hearts.

"Well, it's nice to meet you, Mika." Unsure, Eli replied and threw back a hard sip of beer before exchanging an awkward glance at Luke. He looked terribly embarrassed.

"We are here! Sorry, we are late. Someone couldn't decide what to wear." Announcing himself to the box like a jester would his royal highness, Drew entered with an arm thrown over his stylish daughter's shoulder, the bare one from her large top that didn't really fit her flat frame. She seemed to accidentally hide in the outfits she threw together. "And it was not her." A true dorky dad at heart, Drew joked.

"Jewel!" Dallas exclaimed loud enough that one would have thought the Leafs scored, but the game hadn't even begun. He jumped up out of his seat and rushed to his goddaughter for a hug, his beer bottle cold on her skin and sending goosebumps down her spine. "God, you look stunning, Jewel." He sighed, holding her out for a proper look over. "It's a good thing my boys aren't here with these two beauties." He laughed and checked over his shoulder, but Mika had her cell phone out and was playing a game on it.

"Dad, I think Uncle Mike is drunk." Once away from him, Jewel hissed directly at her Dad whow as already studying Dallas himself, knowing that something was off.

"Mika, say hi to Jewel." Luke tried, pulling up a chair right beside her and talking low like they were secret agents in a complicated mission. "She is starting at Degrassi on Monday, just a couple grades above you, I think." Luke wasn't at all sure. "She will need a friend." He wanted her to shift her eyes away from the phone, look at him and smile. It was all Luke wanted. Instead, Mika put her phone into her ringette team sweatpants and turned away from her stepdad as she stood up.

"Hey, do you want to come get hot chocolate with me?" Grinning from ear to ear, her lips glossed like the top of a vanilla cupcake, Mika approached Jewel who was shadowing her father.

"You're Mika?" She recalled hearing about her on the drive over from her Dad. When Mika nodded, Jewel stepped away from Drew and looked into her purse that was hanging from her side for her wallet.

"I got it, Girls. On me." Drew reached between the two teenagers with a folded ten dollar bill over his index finger.

Jewel thanked her dad and took the money from him before following Mika out, she was already a good five steps ahead of her.

It seemed like as soon as the teenage girls had exited from the luxury box that all the men exhaled an exasperated sigh. Even Eli, who had no connection to either Mika or Jewel. The tension in the box and their respective adult lives was thick and they all needed a release. As the buzzer signalled the start to the hockey game, the four men gathered at the front and watched below, their minds trying to focus on what they were watching.

"I'm sorry for your loss." Eli finally spoke, watching Drew who stood next to him with both hands in the pockets of his fancy dark designer jeans. "Mike told me about Jewel's mom." If Eli didn't love being a director and writer so much, he probably would have become a grief counsellor. He didn't want to, but he seemed to naturally take on that role with everyone he met. "Is she doing alright?" He asked when Drew acknowledged him, a small, but thankful grin on his perfectly sculpted face.

Drew had to really mull over the answer before giving it to Eli.

"As alright as she can be, I guess." Drew settled on, feeling like it was accurate without being too open. "She only just got in last night." He meant to stop there and say nothing more. Luke and Mike were deep in conversation about the Leafs' new defence and Eli seemed to accept Drew's answer to his question, but against himself, he kept talking. "I heard her crying in the bathroom this morning, I think...I don't know...I shouldn't be saying anything." Hew as so far out of his element. He really needed his mom or Jewel's or just any mature woman. "I asked her, but she always just says she is fine. I wouldn't be fine, she can't be fine, right?"

Eli wasn't expecting all that from Drew Torres, but he supposed the two of them hadn't known one another very well when they were younger. He thought Drew was an aloof jock type. He remembered Clare being frustrated with him over student council meetings, but all of the, we're grown ups now. It was possible that like himself, Drew was going through a major change. His daughter had just moved in with him.

"Hey, just let her be." From the other side of Drew, Mike piped up. He knew better than everyone that help could really only be effective when seemed. "She will come to you when or if she needs you, just enjoy her being here." He bit his tongue, but he wanted to point out that in an instant, she could be gone and there was nothing worse than burying your baby.

They may have been talking about Jewel, but all the guys knew Mike was recalling his deceased son.

"Where is Wes tonight?" Drew asked after a small silence had fallen around the four men.

Mike just shrugged and polished off his brew.

He remembered his wife's voice, foggy as he only half listened when she spoke to him now, telling him that Wes was studying with a chemistry group. Or maybe he was tutoring. He really couldn't remember. It had to do with chemistry though because It involved Alli Bhandari, the science teacher that both his sons had always liked. Wes thought she was amazing while Pratt had found her to be terrific eye candy in a class he would have flunked otherwise.

"Guys, do you ever get the distinct feeling your kid thinks you're a complete moron?" Completely out of left field, Luke piped up right before the other team scored. The men all took a moment to groan with the rest of the crowd.

"All the time." Eli shouted over the noise and lifted his chin at Luke. He couldn't believe it, but he actually wanted to converse with the psycho Christian bully from his high school. Eli wanted to confide in him about how his son was shutting the world out and he wanted to lend an ear to any issue that Luke might have with Mika. Maybe, they could help each other somehow the way Eli was trying to help Mike. He knew things were tense at home for Mike with his remaining child, but every time he went to bring it up, Mike shot him down. Eli was planning to ask Drew if he had any luck with talking to Mike about his family, but it sounded like Political Advisor Torres had a plateful himself.

"We should do stuff with our kids more often." Drew suggested, trying to mask his hopefulness by sounding as casual as coffee about it. "Just to give us a break. I would say we could just dump them all on their mothers, but Eli and I don't really have that option." He joked and then apologized instantly to the director with embarrassed eyes. "Sorry, I read about your separation in a gossip column."

Eli wasn't affected though. He only laughed.

"Nah, Nolan would probably like it if I left him to his mother. I think he's got so much going on and I want to help, she just leaves him to go through it." He could read it clearly in his son's eyes, Nolan thought Eli was a real nag. "Do you guys read Clare's articles?" He questioned. Maybe they would agree with him unlike his ex.

**2. Honesty is a hard attribute to find**

He should have been on the other wise of the arena, two levels below and patrolling the halls by the dressing rooms. That was where he was stationed as the head of the team, but Zig's envy and curiosity had the better of him and he asked around to find where Luke Baker's office box was located. He just wanted to see Mika briefly, just so she knew her real dad was there and so Luke would, too.

He passed the slow moving people, almost all dressed in blue or jerseys, and many drunk while counting the number signs. He was good distance away from the box he was hunting for when he heard the unmistakable laugh of his little girl. Of course, he hadn't heard it so clear near him in what felt like eons, but Zig still would recognize it anywhere. It was bold and unabashedly loud, her whole mouth would open when she released it. Staring ahead, he found his surname on the back of a leggy brunette and grinned. He knew it was her, standing by the wooden coffee cart next to another girl, who was the size of ant next to her.

"Mika, hey." Once close enough behind her, he breathed out. Slowly, she paid her Dad little attention, focusing more on stirring the whipped cream into her paper cup of cocoa. Zig wondered if, maybe, she was upset that he would approach her in his work uniform. She was up in the VIP level with Luke after all.

The girl beside her was grinning at him like the angel on top of a Christmas evergreen. He wished his own kid greeted him that way.

"I'm Mika's dad." He told the stick of a girl. He had never seen her before, but he hoped she was a good friend. Though a stiff wind looked like it would blow her away, she still looked like a nice girl. It could have been the side braid in her hair or cartoon frog on her loose sweatshirt though.

"Nice to meet you. I'm Jewel." She stuck out her hand and shook his. "Are you going to be joining us in the box?" Absentmindedly, she just assumed. Up until now, she thought Dr. Baker was Mika's dad even though they didn't look a thing like one another.

"No!" Mika jumped in before her dad could. She almost knocked over her hot drink with her hastiness. "He's working." She mumbled.

"Yeah, I should actually go down to my post." Zig told Jewel, but kept his eyes on his own little girl. She seemed to have stopped laughing as soon as he showed up and it made his chest ache. "I just wanted to let you know that I'll come meet you at the Subway put right outside, okay?"

"What happened to your car?" Actually sounding concerned, Mika asked.

Embarrassed, Zig admitted, "It finally died on me." He didn't have much use for it anymore though. He only bought it thirteen years ago so that he and his hen wife could have a simple way of getting around with their newborn.

"Oh, that sucks." She blandly told him and cupped her drink with a plastic white lid. "Uh, Jewel, we should go back."

"It was nice to meet you." Out of reflex, Jewel told him and started following behind Mika, already heading to the box. "It's so cool that your dad works here!" Hushed, but optimistic, he heard the girl exclaim to his daughter. Privately, Zig hoped Mika would listen. He turned around to head back to where he was meant to be for the duration of the game, but saw an aged Eli Goldsworthy waving at him from outside the bathroom door.

"Long time, man!" Laughing, the director embraced his old friend with one arm and then backed off. He was surprised to see Zig dressed as a security guard and not in an orange jumpsuit. "I just met your daughter actually. She's as tall as you!" Eli laughed.

"Yeah, she is about sixty percent legs." Zig joked back, thinking that Mika was forty percent attitude. "Are you here with your kid?" He knew of Nolan, saw him wandering around Degrsssi with his eyes on the pavement and hood up often.

"Nah, with Mike Dallas actually." Eli was beginning to get a kick out of the reaction people gave him when he announced that. "Actually, we were going to go to the pub across the street after with Drew Torres and..." Eli bit his lip and hesitated for a moment. "your sworn enemy..." He teased. "You should come!" He reached over and slapped Zig's bulging bicep.

"As fun as that sounds," He tried not to snarl, but it was a lost cause. "I'm with Mika tonight. I promised to watch a movie with her." He hadn't, but he hoped that she would agree to it when they got to his building later.

"Alright. No worries." Eli knew it was unlikely to get Zig and Luke in the same room. Clare had filled him on all the gossip a year ago or so. "It's good to see you, though. Take it easy."

**3. Let me be the first to say that I don't have a clue**

His lab partner, Chuck, had just left and Wesley knew he should be leaving, too, but he didn't really want to go home. Even though his dad was out, Wesley absolutely hated being in his home now. He was almost becoming jealous of his brother for not having to endure it. With his textbook open, he took the nerdy path and started to read ahead.

"Chapter five, whoa." Behind him, the voice of his very vertically challenged science teacher, Mrs. Bhandari. She was holding a styrofoam take out box in one hand and her leather bag in the other. She laughed once she had his attention. "Don't worry, I won't but you at The Dot." She knew that when she was Wes's age that it mortify her to be caught hanging out with a teacher on a Friday night. "I just couldn't resist coming to say 'hi'."

"I don't mind." Wes shrugged just like his father always did before showing off his open right palm. "Hi."

"Hi. So, what's re you doing here alone on a Friday? You should be out having fun."

Looking down at his Nike dunks, Wes fought the urge to tell her how awful things were at home right now. She knew his dad after all and he knew his parents would not be okay with him sharif their personal business.

"Pratt stuff?" Her demeanour changed dramatically. Alli tilted her head to the side in an attempt to find the boys soulful brown eyes, her long hair cascading down her shoulder perfectly.

Finally Wes looked back up and just stared at her blankly as if she was a wall. He wanted to talk about his brother, but he never knew what to say to people.

"Wes, do you want me to set up a meeting with you and the guidance counsellor?"

"No." He didn't even have to consider it. It was just no.

"I could talk to your Dad." Alli didn't know just how ruined Mike Dallas was at the moment. She didn't care that she wasn't close to her old high school chum anymore, this was important to her. Besides, she bet that she could still get through to him like she used to be able to.

"No!" He looked terrified at the very idea, his whole head shaking. Wes's reaction was enough to let Alli know that something was up and, whether or not her student wanted her to, she was going to get involved.

**4. Trying to find the best way I know not to**

As he expected, the Leafs had lost. It was a brutal 4 - 1 when the game finished. He tried to convince Mike to let him drive him home, but he was adamant that he go to the pub with Eli and Luke. Both men promised Drew they would take care of Mike and that was enough for him to hear in order to feel alright leaving for home with his daughter. He knew that Mike was suffering right now and, when Pratt first passed away, Drew was over at the Dallas home constantly. He even shaved and dressed Mike on the day of the funeral, but then Jewel's mom became ill and passed so suddenly that he couldn't give his friend as much attention anymore. His little girl needed him.

"Did you have a good time?" Drew drummed along to the radio on the steering wheel as they sat in the post-game traffic. They weren't going to be getting back to his loft anytime soon.

Jewel only nodded, fiddling with her phone over her legging clad knees.

"Mika's nice, huh? You two were talking the whole time." Drew continued. It didn't seem like the two girls even watched much of the game. Jewel never showed much interest in hockey anyway, horseback riding was her thing.

"Yeah, she is really funny." It was a surly sense of humour that Jewel didn't have, but she liked it.

It bothered Drew how naturally the silence fell between the two of them in the car. He turned up the radio, but it didn't help. Jewel had never been very chatty, she kept to herself, but is silence felt thick and heavy. He knew her mind was elsewhere and he was very desperate to know where.

"Who are you texting?" He asked, recognizing her screen as he inched down the downtown street as slow as a turtle going through peanut butter.

"No one."

"I can see that you're texting." He scoffed. "We've never kept things from each other before, baby, let's not start now."

"I'm seriously not texting anyone." Her fingers and eyes stayed on the cell phone's screen as she sounded, for the first time, annoyed by her father.

"I can see your texts up, Jewel." Drew argued, his time on the University debate club paying off greatly.

"You can't actually or you would see I'm looking at old conversations with Mom!" She rebutted flashing her phone in his face quickly, but long enough for him to see the name "Mom" with a purple heart emoji on top.

Drew felt like a major idiot and he could tell that Jewel thought he as one too as she put her phone away into her purse on the car floor. He knew exactly what Luke had been talking about earlier in the evening now. Sighing, he reached over to cup Jewel's knee and was surprised by how cold she felt.

"I'm really sorry, baby." He spoke softly, not sure what else he could say. He drove with one hand on the wheel and as he came to the next stoplight, his thoughts changed. He had been trying to think of something to tell Jewel that would be helpful. He even debated calling his Mom or Clare Edwards, but the sound of sniffling caught his full attention. Drew leaned forward and watched as clean tears were being soaked up the wrists of his daughter's shirt.

"Oh, Jewel, my girl..." Drew's heart broke and he took his hand from her knee to pull her into hi without choking her with the seatbelt. His hand greedily held her thick mane as he tried to be of some comfort. It seemed the more he lovingly hushed her, the louder she wailed. He remember distinctively how she never cried at the hospital or at the funeral and how he almost wanted to beg her to, but listening and watching her in pain now was eroding him. It was all Drew could do to keep himself from tearing up. "What do you want, Jewel? Do you want ice cream?" He tried, but she shook her blubbering head. "Do you want to go home and go in hot tub?" There was one on a lower floor in his building and it always helped hi relax, but Jewel was not having it. "What about - "

"Dad." Finally, she croaked and stared up at him with sore, puffy, red eyes. "I just want to cry right now."

Drew watched her with great empathy and accepted there was nothing he could do for her right now.

"That's perfectly fine." He agreed.

**5. And if I should fall**

Zig was not a slob, but no one would mistake him for cleanly either. However, every Tuesday and second weekend, he made sure to tidy his place up for his daughter's scheduled visit. He set up the pull out couch and made his living room into her little pad with a fold out screen for some privacy. After all, he liked to sleep in his underwear and, sometimes, he woke up to pee in the middle of the night. He laid on one side of the makeshift bed in his sweats and a shirt though, illuminated under the blue light of the television, watching the Eddie Murphy comedy that was playing. He heard Mika emerge from the washroom where she had gone to brush her teeth after devouring a bowl of microwave popcorn and to change into a t-shirt and her polka dot panama pants.

"What did I miss?" Hugging her chest to cover her brakes breasts around her dad, Mika asked and climbed under the blankets.

"They just agreed to trade places." He summed up quickly. His phone kept buzzing on the small table next to him, but he was enjoying his quality time with his daughter, he wasn't going to let technology or anyone interrupt. He had already checked to make sure it wasn't Mika's mother, that was the only person he felt obligated to respond to. "Are you comfortable? Do you need anything else?" Zig checked, paying more attention to Mika than to the the movie.

"I'm good." She nodded before remembering, "I have to take the subway to practice tomorrow, don't I?"

"Well, I'm going to go with you." Thirteen and on the Bloor line alone, Zig wouldn't hear of it.

Mika couldn't stand the sound of his vibrating phone anymore and quickly changed the topic.

"You should answer that. Someone clearly needs you." She made no effort to mask now irritated she was.

Zig picked up his phone with an eye roll that continued as he read the messages that were pouring in, different ones from different people. He didn't respond though, he just shut his cell off and put it back down.

"You didn't have to do that." Mika was glad he did though.

"It wasn't anyone important." He muttered.

"Girls?" She guessed hoping he would laugh at the mere thought.

Zig didn't laugh though. His face remained stoic and the expression made Mika's eyes grow due to feeling betrayed somehow.

"What?" Zig felt her stare on him and suddenly felt an uncomfortable mixture of confused and worried. "What's with the eyes?" His daughter seemed to know they were her best blessing and weapon.

"Do you have a girlfriend?" Bluntly, she asked. She didn't have to hear his answer, the idea alone upset her.

He really didn't want to lie to her, but he also felt like there were some things you just didn't share with your kids. Zig didn't have a girlfriend, but as a single man, and an attractive and charming one, he had girls.

"Not exactly, but I date." That sounded better than what he would say to his friends.

Even with the television as their only source of light, he saw Mika's face turn green at his answer.

"What's wrong?" Zig felt so lost as he had since Mika turned thirteen.

"Nothing. Whatever." She was no longer giving him any attention. Mika faced forward and stated at the screen without watching it at all. A beat passed and then she continued in monotone, "I don't know why I'm surprised. You left Mom and I, of course, you're making a new life."

"Hey, don't talk like that, Mika. Not to me." Zig let a lot slide, but he wasn't about to be disrespected by his daughter. He also wasn't going to let Mika be a brat, not with his last name as her own. "I didn't leave your Mom, she moved out," He was speaking fast, hating the memory that came up with his words as the day he came home to his wife and daughter gone was the worst day of his life. "And I have never left you." Zig could have moved away and he would have liked to most days, but being away from his daughter sounded like cruel torture so he stayed.

"Well, that's how it feels!" She shot back. Mika's scream slapped Zig across the face like a cold hand. He knew he divorce wasn't easy on her, but they didn't talk about their feelings. He always just assumed she was embarrassed by his status and that was the sole purpose for her stand offish behaviour. "It doesn't matter. Whatever date whoever you want, marry someone, I don't care! I have a new family now!"

If she was trying to hurt him, she was successful. Zig gripped the covers in an effort not to react poorly. He practiced breathing deeply before getting up off of the pill out couch.

"I'm not going to sit here and be screamed at. If you want to talk calmly, let me know. I think you must be tired." Like a robot, he talked to her while walking to his bedroom. He really didn't want to overreact or say something horrible back like he was known to do when hurt. After closing his bedroom door and pacing for a moment, Zig emerged again. This time the entire apartment was black as Mika had shut off the movie.

"I love you, Mika. I love you more than you can imagine." It was the truth too. He never thought he would experience the kind of happiness that he felt when he was with his daughter. "I've made my choices and your mother had made hers, but my love for you is solid and doesn't change, you got me?" He waited and waited for a response, but nothing was returned so he closed his bedroom door again and tried to sleep.

**Please review. I love a little feedback.**


	3. Believe In You

**1. And it never ever fails**

He should have brought his work in with him. He needed a distraction while he waited in a The Dot, but instead, he had left his binder for the show in the backseat of his car and he was now left to twiddle his thumbs over the surface of the high table, only breaking to take large sips of his black coffee.

Right on time, Clare bustled into the familiar food joint. She was so fast coming around the sidewalk corner outside that Eli hadn't even noticed her until she was standing inches away.

"Hey..." Her formerly excited smile began to fade right in front of him. Clare accepted his hug anyway as he jumped out of his chair to wrap his arms around her. Hugging Elimalways felt exactly as it did when they were two crazy in love teenagers. It never changed over the years, they both just learned to appreciate it instead of yearn for it again.

"Thanks for meeting with me. I am sure you're swamped at the paper." Eli explained, palms out in front of him as he sat down again.

"I always make time for friends." Politely, she told him while hooking her small cross body bag over the back of her seat and then sitting down herself. "I thought Nolan was coming." Clare didn't need to look over the menu. The Dot hadn't changed since she was a teenager after all. "And Stephanie." Eli hadn't mentioned Nolan's mom in his messages, but Clare assumed.

"Nolan is the king of not coming through these days. I know he has a spare now and he said he would come, but of course ..." Eli held out both his arms, stretching them toward the empty chair between both him and his ex. "This isn't weird for you, is it?" He checked. He was certain that he had seen Clare one on one before, but he way she was shifting uncomfortably across from him made Eli wonder.

"It's not weird. It's just... you're separated, we used to come here a lot when we dated, you didn't bring your son like you said..." Stretching out her words slowly, Clare let her head dance from one cardigan clad shoulder to the other. She didn't want to be so presumptuous, the reporter in her new better, but Eli had always struggled with boundaries with her even when he was married.

"Clare, if you want this to be a date, it can be." Eli laughed, trying to mask his own embarrassment. It wasn't until Clare pointed it out that he realized how much this, in fact, seemed like a set up. "I picked this place because it's convenient for Nolan and I really did invite him. I thought we could talk to him candidly about being tested for bipolar depression."

"Candidly?" This time, it was Clare's turn to laugh. The waitress interrupted her and quickly took the reporter's order for a peppermint tea. "How do you candidly talk to a teenager about mental health?" She thought Eli was a good Dad, remembering how attentive he was to his son when he played soccer as a four year old and when the Goldsworthy's would join the Edward's for summer barbecues, but he was clueless when it came to how to raise a teenager. She thought Eli, with his tumultuous teenage years, would have some real insight.

"I don't know." Eli's eyes grew with helplessness, his chest deflating. "That's why I called on you. Your articles are so informative and well researched. Plus, Nolan really likes you." He had from the time he was four days old and she brought him a sock monkey with a pirate hat and patch.

"Well, you know I love him too." Fondly, she smiled. "But I'm not a doctor, Eli, I just interview them. If Nolan agreed, I could try and get him an appointment with Dr. Mercury. He is the best in the city when it comes to mental disorders in teens."

"That would be amazing, thank you." Clare really did never let him down even when he hadn't always been able to come through for her in return.

"Well, I'm not doing this behind Stephanie's back. I'm not stepping on any mother's toes." One thing Clare had learned since working for a newspaper and conducting all kinds of interviews as that you never mess with a mom. They are a force to be reckoned with.

Eli took one last hard sip of his coffee, unfortunately getting a mouthful of grinds, and propped his elbow up on the table. He leaned his head into his hand and groaned. The way Clare's frost blues were pushing into him, practically insisting on honesty, he couldn't even pretend like Nolan's mom was behind this. He didn't even tell her that he was meeting with Clare, just simply left her with the assistant director and student apprentice.

"Steph doesn't think there's anything wrong with him," Eli discreetly looked up and whined before adjusting his spine straight against the chair and energizing himself. "But I know there is. I've been where he was and I thought because you knew me then, you would see it too!" He told her with animated hand gestures. "You're smarter than Steph anyway..."

Clare fixed a stare of disbelief on her ex and then just shook her head. It was a miracle he could still shock her after all this time.

"She must love hearing that." Clare sarcastically noted. "Has he mentioned wanting to end his life or anything?" On a much more serious note, she asked, hoping the answer would be negative.

"No, but he is so miserable and withdrawn. He doesn't interact with anyone. He just sleeps and sits in his room. When he does go to school, I'm told he sits in the back with his headphones on or just sleeps at his desk." Eli swallowed, trying not to show how saddened he was by watching his son clearly live unhappily. He had always tried to provide his only child with everything that he could. "I'm not being a crazy dad. There's something going on and I want to know what it is."

Understanding, Clare nodded and instinctively, she reached across the table and covered his one hand with her own. She didn't even mean to it, it was just natural to want to comfort her first love. He meant the world to her and always would. She never could get used to seeing Eli in agony. When she saw a grateful smile starting to form on his solemn face, she took her hand back and kept it to herself.

"Well, I think you got to talk to him. You said he shuts you out, but I don't know you to be the type to take 'no' for an answer. I've seen you get worked up about much smaller things."

She was right and Eli knew she was. He would have to do it tonight. He would insist his son stay at his place and then make him talk. It sounded easy in his head, but Eli knew it would be a challenge. Like both his parents, Nolan was stubborn.

After nodding and watching Clare add honey to her tea carefully, Eli changed the subject, "So, how are you? Are you still seeing the weather guy?" He tried not to wrinkle up his nose when he mentioned the guy on television who always wore up such fridge ties and flood pants.

"I thought you asked me to meet you to talk about Nolan." Looking up from her vague reflection in the tea, Clare raised her eyebrows at his question.

"I'm just curious." Forever cheeky, Eli grinned and leaned back comfortably as the waitress topped off his mug.

"Well," Reluctantly, Clare answered. "His name is Charles." She knew at Eli knew that. Like everyone else in Toronto, he watched the evening news complete with the weather report. "And we stopped seeing each other before Canada Day, keep up." She laughed. "I'm good. There's no one, but Patch in my life and that's just fine." Clare had come to a point in her life where she was content. He a good chunk of her friends opted for the family package, she was happy with her life being just her dog and her. She had travelled most of the world, interviewed fascinating people, and had a handful of cute nieces, nephews, and two godchildren. She was happier than she ever expected to me at the moment, but Eli always secretly wanted to make her happier.

**2. Someone like you burning through me**

Drew had sworn up and down that Jewel would like his old high school. He talked about his glory days as the president of the whole student body the whole drive over. He even went to a few meetings with the sitting principal and guidance counsellor to discuss his daughter's transfer, hoping they could help it go as smoothly as possible. He wanted her to feel at home in Ontario and start the healing process and if she could manage to stay out of he boiler room, even better.

Jewel Torres looked like a gypsy pixie as she sat alone on a bench behind a crowded row of bike racks. She had plenty of catch up to work on since she missed the first month of school, but she had no interest in cracking the books yet. She doubted they would chase away thoughts of her beautiful deceased mother anyway. She opened up her iPad on her lap and slowly scanned through photographs of her old life in Alberta, paying most attention to the ones of the horses at the ranch where she had taken lessons most of her life.

"Every school needs a horse girl." Behind her, a heavy voice coughed out and then laughed. Meekly, Jewel looked over her shoulder draped in blue scarves and beamed at the sight of Wesley Dallas. He had grown a whole foot since she saw him last she was sure.

"That's why I transferred, I heard Degrassi had a vacancy." She teased back, playing along before moving her bag and math textbook off the bench in case he wanted to join her.

Wes waved off his two friends and scurried over to his childhood friend, his hand leaving his raw brown curls in order to squeeze her skeleton of a body. With their fathers being so close, it was preconceived that Wes and Jewel would be close. Even though, they only saw each other when Jewel came to visit, they kept in touch and always got along swimmingly.

"Where have you been, huh? I thought you were going to be at that hockey game on the weekend. That's the only reason I went." Laying her iPad down, she playfully jabbed him in the ribs with her elbow.

"I was ignoring my dad. He smashed my laptop." Wes told her, still fuming. His dad hadn't even issued an apology yet.

"What? That's ridiculous." She didn't press for information, knowing how annoying nosiness could be since her father was notoriously nosy. "He seemed a little drunk actually, but I guess that's what guys do at hockey games."

"No. My dad's been drinking like a fish lately. It's...pretty...whatever." Even though he fancied himself highly intelligent, Wes didn't know how to explain his situation at home right now.

"Well, obviously he is going through a lot."

"So am I, but I don't drink a six pack every day or sleep for twelve hours a day." Both his parents were severely disappointing him these days and he knew that his twin would have been pretty let down too.

Instantly, Jewel wished she hadn't said a word.

"Sorry." She bit down on her bare pink bottom lip and whispered. "You're being really tough. I don't know how you're doing it." Jewel didn't have any siblings, but she still knew that Wes was handling it well on the outside. "You know, my dad, he lost his brother in high school. He would talk to you if you needed." She tried to be helpful again.

"I know. He told me." At the hospital, the funeral reception, and even one other time in passing. Wes spas appreciative, but he hated imposing on people. The only person he liked to ask for help was Miss Bhandari and that was just about chemistry and other sciences. "You're pretty brave yourself, J." Finally, he nudged her back. Her mom hadn't been gone all that long and here she was with her life in boxes and in a brand new province, starting over.

"Yeah, well," Jewel searched her lap, covered in her long grey sweater under the iPad, and picked at the thin material with her turquoise trimmed nails. "I don't want to talk about it." She knew she would cry even if Wes might be able to understand some.

"Fair enough." Wes didn't want to discuss death if he didn't have to. "So, how much homework do you have to do for catch up?" He was genuinely interested. "I can help."

"Seriously? You're the bomb. That would be amazing." She stressed and put away her iPad in her purse to show him her weighty math textbook. "Three chapters of this for Friday. It's enough to make a little prairie girl cry." Dramatically, she pouted to try and make Wes laugh.

"Well, you're going to have some busy nights ahead of you..." He mused, opening up the cover with one hand and starting to flip through. "I can come over and work it out with you."

"Are you sure, Wes? It's not asking too much?"

"You're not asking, I'm offering." He corrected, a charming know-it-all as only. Wes was willing to do anything anyway in order to be out of his own house.

**3. The way that we meet and you disappear**

"You're going to put the dating on hold, right?" Sitting in Drew's office, where she usually glowed with pride, Audra checked for the second time with her adult son. She stabbed the plastic prongs of her black fork into a crisp piece of her iceberg salad like it was one of the bimbos Drew had been spending his time with since breaking up with his last serious girlfriend two years ago. "Your focus should be Jewel right now."

"I know, Mom." Drew grumbled, typing on his laptop with his fingers costed in grease from his stuffed gyro from the food truck outside his office building. "Obviously, she is my priority right now."

"How is she doing? How come you haven't brought her over yet? It's not right to keep a baby away from their grandma." Audra pouted, finally earning a look from Drew, his dark eyes unimpressed behind the computer.

"She's not a baby." He reminded her. His little girl was a teenager who moved into his house with a box of tampons and seriously tiny lacy underwear that nearly made his heart stop. It was mortifying to see your kid grow up. One minute they want you to read them "Brown Bear, What Do You See?" and the next they were decoding Victoria's secret. "She's doing alright, though, she's got the Torres's brave face on." He explained, trying to get his work done while entertaining his mother to her approval. "We will come over soon, I'm just worried you'll make her cry."

Audra's face twisted like a soft pretzel, insulted by her son's thoughtlessness.

"I just mean that Jewel is fragile right now and I don't want her to breakdown at the dinner table." He tried to clarify, but knew it was too late. Sighing, Drew shut his laptop and ran one hand through his freshly cut brown hair. He decided it was best to just let his mom talk. She was going to anyway.

"I am her grandma!" She protested. "If she wants to cry, scream, laugh, or snort in front me, she can."

"Mom, I know. I'm just trying to look out for her, okay?" He reasoned like he would with a journalist hounding him with campaign questions. "I have to go to a meeting, okay?" Drew jumped up, rushing to put his suit jacket back on. "I'll tell Jewel to call you tonight. I promise."

"A promise from a politician, hmm..."

"It's a promise from your son." Drew corrected, sounding as stern as his eyes were as they fawned over her for a second more. Quickly, he fixed his red tie and grabbed his suitcase from underneath his mahogany desk.

"Did you give any thought to what I suggested? About Jewel calling Bianca?"

Drew froze before opening his glass office door. The curves of the new intern's body bringing him back to planet earth after his mom casually mentioned his girlfriend as she seemed to love to do.

"No, Mom, I haven't. Now I really have to go." He practically stood her away like an unwanted forest critter. He loved his mom dearly. She was his rock, but Drew was under a lot of pressure at work and was stressed enough as it was with Jewel. He didn't need Audra Torres's providing commentary to his every decision. It had crossed his mind to reach out to Bianca, he knew she would help him, but Drew pushed the idea away and organized it in the "no" file.

**4. What you want isn't what you get**

Shutting off his BMW after impatiently waiting for fifteen minutes and sending three texts, Lurk stepped out from behind the wheel and stalked over to his old high school's front doors from the crowded parking lot. He had another client to see back at his practice still and was eager to get going. He spotted Mika with two of her girlfriends from ringette, waiting on the cement front steps with her chin resting on her jean clad knees as the girls talked.

"Mika, hey. We got to go." He acknowledged the girls with his church smile and tried to keep composed since he was their coach.

"I thought Mom was coming." Mika stood up with her Nike backpack, throwing it over one of her shoulders and then pushing her fists into the red pouch of her navy hoodie.

"She had to take Sadie to the optometrist. I've been texting you."

"I left my phone in mom's car." She mumbled and started to leave, waving away her to her two best friends. Mika didn't like when Luke picked her up. He listened to the worst music and he forced her into awkward conversations about school, classmates, and behaving herself.

As the two moved quickly over the cold pavement, both in black shoes (Luke's leather loaders, Mika's canvas Keds), Zig jogged over to them, a knit snood hat in his chilly hands.

"Dad?" Mika's brows lowered over her eyes in confusion. He was the last person she expected at school. The rest of the weekend had ran smoothly after their first evening tiff. He taught her how to make one of his favourite family recipes and they went out for a long walk in his neighbourhood park with hot chocolate and oatmeal cookies her grandma made.

"Zig, what are you doing here?" Luke didn't have to say it out loud, his tone of voice let both Novak's know that he did not have time for this. "You never pick Mika up on Mondays."

After their argument on Friday night, Zig felt determined to make it obvious to Mika that she was his whole reason for being. He wanted her to feel loved despite her parents being divorced and know that while Zig didn't live with her full time and couldn't give her all the materials Luke could, that he was still her father. Nothing would change that.

"I don't need a certain day to see my daughter." He scowled and told Luke sharply, barely even looking at the guy he loathed so deeply. A car honked for the three of them to move, but only Mika did, forcing the car to drive around the brewing scene.

"Well, it's what you and Michelle agreed on." It never failed every time he was around Zig, Luke became a lawyer. He knew that Mika would never take him seriously with her biological dad around. Luke so badly wanted his stepdaughter to like him and treat him like part of her family, but Zig always threatened that simply by being her dad.

"Yeah, well, Michelle and I can sort that out for ourselves." He slid his eyes over at Luke for all of a nanosecond, grinning smugly before handing his daughter the hat he was holding. "It's getting cold, you'll need this soon."

"Mika already has winter clothes." He fought his urge to throw in Zig's face that he had outfitted Mika in designer clothes, but he didn't want to seem immature in front of Mika. He needed her respect.

"Your grandma knitted it for you." He continued, ignoring Luke. "Why don't you come with me? I was thinking we could do sloppy Joe's and I'll help you study for that geography test." Zig reached out, assuming his young daughter would follow along.

"Mika, your mom is making roast, you have to come home." Her home was with him, not Zig. The subtle jab was enough to form a vein in Zig's forehead. He wanted to knock Luke out just like he had wanted to do a couple times in the parking lot before when they were students. "And she has a test in English, Zigmund. I'm sure you remember that wasn't your strength." Luke smirked at him and kept walking with the expectation Mika would follow.

"You know, Luke, you aren't her father, I am." If Mika wasn't standing right there, undying of public humiliation, Zig would have been shouting and had Luke by the collar. Instead, he was exaggerating his every word in man effort to regain a sense of security and strength. Zig was expecting to, maybe, run into his ex-wife while trying to pick up Mika, she would have been fine with everything. "Technically, I should be picking her up."

"There's a lot of things that you really _should_ do, Zig, but we manage just fine without your food stamps." The gloves were off now.

"Um, Dad, I'll call you later. We should go." Mika saw her father's cold hands curling into his fists at the side and jumped in. She put the knit hat on her head and sighed before four kids in black skateboarded by her.

"Parents suck, huh?" The boy she knew to be Nolan Goldsworthy, a couple grades above her, mumbled at her before rolling on.

Zig stared back at his daughter stunned by her choice, but his face switch into sadness just as fast. Luke was smiling and walking over to his BMW, knowing full well that he had won.

"I just have all my stuff I need at Mom's, okay?" Mika explained, hoping her Dad would understand.

"It's fine, Mika." He said without any emotion. She might not have heard it over the sound of skateboard wheels, but she broke off a piece of his heart.

"Pick me up tomorrow."

"You have ringette and I work."

"Okay...well I'll call you tonight." Mika told him again and started to jog off to where Luke was watching the two of them. "You really can't just, like, show up..." She shouted behind her, leaving her dad alone in the lot and feeling like a loser.


	4. Terrible Love

_**I'm very excited for chapter five, so I hope everyone will stick around. Please review and let me know what you think and, of course, I don't own Degrassi.**_

**1. It's a terrible love and I'm walking with spiders**

He wanted to be alone.

The sound of cupboards closing and chair legs against the hardwood floor in the other room actually caused his hands to move into fist formation. He hated when his dad came home because he was always talking on the phone, laughing loudly, and going on and on. Nolan could hear him through the slammed door and his professional quality headphones blasting the likes of Sublime usually, sometimes Placebo or The Sex Pistols. Nolan would much rather be at his Mom's condo. She was never home. There was usually a chef made meal waiting for him in the microwave accompanied by two twenty dollar bills. When she was home, she only bugged him to run lines with her or work out in the building's gym (and he always turned down the latter option). It was unbeknownst to him why, but Nolan had been summoned to his Dad's place in Yorkdale after school. He never had to go anywhere, they always let him choose and he always chose to stay at his Mom's, but today he was given instructions.

He didn't care why though. Nolan laid flat as a board on his bed, eyes to the ceiling, with his phone resting on his mushy stomach, playing Santeria, while he wished he could fall asleep. He seemed to sleep all the time lately, even when in class, but it never felt like enough. He always wished he was sleeping again as soon as he woke up. It was better than having to actually deal with anything. Sometimes just the sunlight coming in through the window was enough to piss him off.

Clumsily, he took the phone in his hand to change the song, something to block out the noise of his Dad's pacing feet on the other side of the bedroom. He rolled his eyes and checked out his FaceRange page, the only form of socialization Nolan actually liked these days.

His chronically heavy eyes stared vaguely at the screen for a minute. He yawned and scanned over the activity, his eyes resting on the name Mika Novak for longer than a nanosecond. She posted a picture, a selfie, of herself half-smiling and pointing to the knitted hat on top of her head. Half of a smile crept onto his face before his fingers were messaging her.

**Nolan**: hey. Nice hat.

It took her five whole minutes to respond and by then, his Dad's feet had stopped right outside his door. Nolan rolled his eyes instantly, as if in preparation for Eli to come through the door.

On the other side, standing in the hallway of his Victorian style home, Eli was trying to gain some of his hard earned strength. Clare had been right at lunch. Eli was not one to stand idly by when he wanted something done. He was a man of action. It was strange that he found confronting his son so difficult since he loved his son more than anyone else on the planet. Maybe, Eli was just scared to find out the truth. It was one thing to assume his boy was bipolar, it was another thing to know that his kid was going to go through so much of what Eli had, all the unwanted feelings and uncontrollable thoughts and reactions.

He lifted his hand to knock on the door and cleared his throat, but he lost his nerve and headed straight over to his office, closing the door and going to slouch down in his comfortable office chair. Eli picked up his phone instantly and dialled the number he had had memorized like the script of Dogma.

"Hello Eli." Somewhat amused, Clare answered. She paused the cooking show playing on her television in her living room and moved away from the pot of water and oil on her stove top to give him her full attention. "Miss me already?" She teased.

"Terribly. I'm going through bad withdrawal, shaking hands and all." He joked right back, the banter always so effortless between them.

"Well call me when you get the sweats until then, you can manage."

Smiling, Eli just shook his head and leaned back comfortably in the chair that had his butt imprint forever on the brown cushion.

"I'm actually calling about Nolan."

"I know." Clare sighed quietly. It was instinctive for her; to worry because Eli was.

"How should I start? He's not the type to just open up." He kept his one hand on the phone and the other in the pocket of his new jeans to keep from gripping his hair from all the stress whirling around in his body.

"I wonder who he gets it from." She mused. Eli's former wife was a dramatic chatty woman. She had no problems when it came to expressing herself. "Just start by asking him how things are going for him and take any lead you can." She advised. "Or, maybe, just voice your concerns. I don't know, Eli, I'm not a parent." She had no maternal instincts as she was not a mother.

"That's a damn shame." Without listening to himself, Eli simply said. He meant it. Clare would be a great mother and he couldn't believe she hadn't had the chance to be yet. She always blamed her career, but Eli didn't think that was a good enough excuse. In his eyes and mind, Clare could do it all. "Yeah, you're right. I'll just tell him what I think, about my own experiences, and say I want him to see a doctor."

"Good luck." Genuinely, Clare said. "I really hope it goes well. Just keep your temper level, okay?" Eli could really lose his composure when he grew frustrated. It was something Clare wished he would work on.

"I will. Thanks for everything. You really are my girl."

"Always." She whispered back, almost resenting her own loyalty to him.

The music in Nolan's room was replaced by silence when Eli returned to the shut door. It crossed his mind that his kid may have gone to sleep, but he banged his knuckles against the door anyway.

"Hey, we got to talk, Nole!" Eli chirped anxious for a response. He counted backwards from ten in his head and then just swung the door open. He knew Nolan was in there after all.

"Hey!" Instantly, he growled at his dad with sharp eyes as he threw his gaze up from the phone screen he had been glued to. "I didn't say you could come in!"

"My house. Too bad." Eli replied, somehow surprised by the attitude coming from his son. "I want to talk to you." He thought about waiting for Nolan to willingly engage, but knew it wouldn't happen so Eli helped himself into the dark and messy bedroom. He leaned up against a black Ikea desk, the surface covered in clutter. It all looked like junk and old receipts to Eli, but he didn't want to touch it. They might have been important to Nolan after all. "How was school today?" He knew Stephanie let him stay home when he wanted to and was pleased that Nolan! at least! went today. Eli crossed his arms over his chest and guided his eyes around his boy, still typing away on his phone as he half-sat and half-laid on his unmade bed. Every one of Nolan's movements felt important.

Nolan shrugged at the question before mumbling, almost inaudibly, "It was school."

"Well, you went today. That's good." Eli nodded more vigorously than he meant to. He really was glad. He noticed the posters on the wall, mostly Tarantino and one Lynch. It was nice to see so much of himself in his son's rom, but it was also a touch frightening. "Why don't you ever want to go?"

"Cause it's school." He said with an implied 'duh', his eyes were attached to his phone.

"You know, that's not an acceptable answer for every question." Eli lowered his gaze at his boy, stepping forward to swipe the phone from his loose hand with ease. It became clear to Eli that Nolan hadn't showered in a while the closer he got to him. The kid's greasy hair should have been the first and only hint needed.

"What the fuck - " Nolan embodied rage as soon as his phone was out of his hands. Eli almost wanted to photograph his son to use as an emotion reference for his cast. It was pure I censored anger and it was directed right at him. Luckily, Nolan was not completely unhinged.

"Whoever you're talking to can wait." Eli snapped and shoved the phone into the pocket of his jeans. It wasn't as if there was any chance he was in the middle of a text chat with the prime minister. "I'm surprised you're talking to anyone. I can barely get so much as boo out of you these days." He imagined whoever Nolan was talking to was a teenager and Eli didn't think he would ever be envious of a teenager again.

"What do you want?" Nolan tossed himself back on the couch and asked with his eyes blankly blinking on his Dad. Every time he looked at Eli, he was forced to face the fact that he would never be tall. His dad was a shrimp and his mom was just an inch above average for women.

"You've been isolating yourself lately." Eli decided to just go for it, jump in head first and hope for the best. "You're always just in your room or sleeping. I know it's the same at your Mom's." She told him enough for Eli to have that in his back pocket. "I don't think I've seen you smile since you were eleven," he dramatized, sounding personally hurt by his son's change in behaviour. "I'm really concerned, Nolan." Nolan didn't respond though. His eyes had rolled over to the wall, directed at John Travolta's head on his Pulp Fiction poster. "You know I found out I was bipolar when I was a couple years older than you, it's totally possible - "

Nolan's eyes rolled quickly back to Eli and dug into his skull with their steady stare.

"Are you calling me a nut job because I'm not Mr. Personality?" He snapped.  
"No..." Slowly, Eli spoke. He had to remind himself to keep his temper even and not react back. "I don't think anyone with a mental health issue is a 'nut job'" He tried not to sound defensive. "I think it would be worth your while to take a few tests. Clare, you know Clare, she can get you in to see Dr. Mercury, he's a..."

"Clare? Seriously?" Nolan didn't know what to get upset about first. He sat up and squinted at his dad, knowing full well who the real nut in the room was. "You're telling your girlfriend about me? Talking to her like I'm crazy?" If he told Clare, who else had he told? Eli liked to talk and, unfortunately, people liked to talk to him.

"I was just concerned and - " Eli's hands were thrown open as he loudly shouted in despair. He stopped himself and matched his son's squinting expression, replaying the last minute of their conversation in his head. "Clare is not my girlfriend. I barely see her." He wanted to see her so much more than he did.

"Whatever. Mom knows you want to fuck her."

"Hey! Mouth!" Sternly, Eli warned with a point of his index finger right at Nolan's nose.

Nolan could remember being very small and in a luxury hotel room with his parents in New York. His mom was presenting at the Drama Desk Awards and Eli came along to search for new projects and partners though he was supposed to be there as evening support for his then wife. It was unknown to Nolan what caused the loud argument, but his parents left him on the bed top with The Goonies on while they relocated themselves to the large adjoined bathroom to keep shouting. He remembered his Dad sighing and grunting loudly, saying over and over that Clare was just a friend now, while his mother basically re-enacted an award winning monologue complete with tears and throwing what sounded like a soap dish. Clare, while a close family friend, was always a hot topic in their family. His father brought her up out of nowhere all the time, glowing as he did, while his mother found every excuse to say things like "I know you would like it better if Clare did it" or "I'm no Clare Edwards." In fact, she told reporters the latter at the premiere of one of his dad's shows ages ago. The video of it went viral for a week since Eli's face at she said it twisted into a pale anguish. It went on to become a popular online meme for a while.

"We are talking about you, okay?" Eli regrouped, his frustrations tempting to erupt. "I'm doing you a solid and asking you if you want to see a doctor. I could just make you go."

"Then make me go." Unaffected, Nolan shrugged.

Eli had expected it to be a much bigger struggle.

"Can I have my phone back now?" He laid down again, ready to crash.

Reluctantly, Eli pulled the phone from his pocket and tossed it gently on the bed. Nolan slowly picked it up from between his ankles, disappointed to see that Mika had signed off. He groaned and laid back down win his phone on his chest.

"Do you have any questions about bipolar disorder or the tests..." Eli sat down on one of the end corners of Nolan's bed, wanting to be let into his son's private and moody world.

"No." Nolan turned the Sublime on on his phone again, filling the room with ska noise.

"Okay, well I'm going to order Indian..." He said as he stood up to leave, moving slow and hoping Nolan would stop him or say anything, but he didn't. Eli just closed the door behind him and inhaled deeply, releasing it as he went back to his office. He wanted to call Clare and report the whole conversation to her, but he resisted. She had a life and he couldn't keep selfishly interrupting it. He thought about calling Steph, but he knew she would just unload on him for not listening to her or considering her as Nolan's mother. Eli simply called his favourite curry house instead. It was sometimes better than a female companion.

**2. It's a terrible love and I'm walking in**

He had tried to call Eli for lunch earlier in the day, but he only reached his cell phone both times. Mike was starting to feel more and more unhinged, his depression over his son's death reaching a peak he had overlooked months ago. He didn't know why he looked to Eli for solace. He knew that any one of his closer friends would be there for him. Luke was always saying he was praying for Mike and his family! The entire Torre's clan obviously wanted to help, and even his college and work friends made attempts, but Mike was a closed book. He opened up himself up to Eli and, for now, that was the only reader he wanted.

He stood at the door of Drew's sixth floor loft without moving for a few minutes, fiddling with his car keys in his pocket like they were his only force of life, and then rang the doorbell. Instantly after, he heard feet rushing over to presumably answer. He tried to fix something that resembled a smile on his face before the door opened. Jewel answered, looking like a gypsy as usual with a grin open big on her face no one would guess she was newly motherless.

"Hi Uncle Mike." She leaned her face against the door and greeted him. "You're right on time. Dad's enchiladas are almost done."

"Thanks, J, but I'm just here to pick up Wes." His voice was deeper than the out in his gut and it's tone always stunned Jewel. "His mom's making dinner." He lied. She was asleep with her work on her stomach when he had arrived home. This time, on the drive home after work, he decided he would go home and kiss her, he would try to bridge the ever-growing gap between them, but it was useless. As soon as Mike walked in the door, he lost himself.

"No, no, come in here. I'm cooking enough for ten, so you got to eat!" Drew hollered out from the open concept kitchen, the sizzling sound of the pan on the stove top now more apparent than before.

Jewel opened the door further, revealing Wes on the couch. He looked like Pratt and the sight of him, every time twisted a blade in Mike's stomach and he had to avert his eyes.

"We will stay for a bit." He grumbled. The food did smell good after all. He walked in, leaving his shoes on as he headed to where Drew as in in the kitchen, grating cheese into a white ceramic bowl.

"You've got nowhere to rush to." Drew continued, feeling peppy after a good day at the office and hearing that his daughter's first day at Degrassi had been successful. He knew that Mike's wife was struggling like he was and wouldn't be dying for them to get back. "Mike said he is meeting up with Alli Bhandari later...extra chemistry help." Drew nodded over at the boy on the couch, highlighting notes in Jewel's textbook. He really wanted his study ethic to run off on her.

"Why?" His brows frowned over his eyes as he shifted himself at the kitchen island to try and look at his son for longer than ten seconds.

"Extra chemistry help." Wes automatically and, a bit mechanically, repeated what Drew had just said.

"Great." Mike deflated, leaning over his elbows on the island. "Just who I want knowing my personal business, Alli Bhandari."

"She's his teacher." Drew didn't see the problem.

"Yeah, well they're not supposed to get personal with students."

Drew laughed and rolled his eyes, drizzling jack cheese over top of his rolled enchiladas that were nearly ready for the oven. They were a masterpiece and he felt, for a moment like he would actually be able to handle being a Mom and Dad.

"I don't think Alli is going to take him to the boiler room." He mused, not getting so much as a snicker from Mike in return. "Look, man, Alli cares. She will ask, of course she will, but I don't think Wes is going to dump on her. It's good that he has something to do, something to distract him." Quietly, Drew tried to show his friend the bright side.

"Can't they, like, go study in Jewel's room?" Mike nodded over to their kids on the couch, talking over a textbook method Jewel didn't quite comprehend. Drew stared at his best friend like he was absolutely insane.

"No." He simply and sharply replied before picking up the glass casserole dish. When Drew drove them home, he saw the two teens head straight into her bedroom, but he put a pin to that balloon faster an the speed of light. "You don't have a daughter, you wouldn't get it." He chirped, feeling Mike staring at him whole he had his back turned, opening the oven door with one foot. Once the dish was in to cook, Drew sprung into action. He liked helping people, he was good at it.

"Hey, you two," he wiped his hands on a dish towel and called to the teenagers. "Want to run down to the store?" Tossing the towel into the sink, he took his wallet off the top of the stainless steel fridge and fished out a twenty dollar bill and held it out for Jewel. "Pick up some milk, and whatever you want to drink, and the hot sauce with the green lid." He spoke directly to Jewel, but watched as both teenagers stood up and were listening. Jewel slid on her shoes and the bulky sweater she had hanging by the door, handing Wes his fall jacket. "Green lid." He reminded his girl as she took the money from him, smiling at her with a wink when she nodded.

As soon as the two took off, shutting the door behind them, Drew pulled one beer from the fridge, knocked off the cap, and held it in his grip tightly.

"So, are you ever going to see that therapist my mom gave you he number for?" He felt the stone of his counter meet his back as he leaned up against it, taking the first sip of his Farmery brew. "Because whatever healing path you're on, the Eli Goldsworthy 12 step program, it's not working." Drew told his friend candidly. He was glad that Mike reached out to someone, but Drew was determined to get his friend some professional help.

"I'm busy, man. I can't just go see a therapist whenever." He excused. He stood up from the island, heading to fridge for his own beer, but Drew threw his free arm against it.

"Make time." He said through locked teeth. "You drink too much," Just like that, Drew snapped back into his usual happy self. "How about lemonade?" He had it on hand only because Jewel made it, an eternal hippie she was.

"No, thanks." Mike just rolled his eyes and went to sit on a barstool at the end of the island.

"How's Kim?" Drew tried, not sure what the best way to start making Mike deal was. "You never mention her anymore and I haven't seen her since the funeral..."  
"Yeah, well she isn't great. She just lost her son." He grumbled, talking to Drew about what he already knew. To make matters worse, Mike couldn't even console his wife. He was too much of a lost cause himself.

"You two know you still have another son who needs you, right?" Drew put down his beer and went right over to Mike, pulling out the stool across from him and taking a seat. "Wes is an awesome kid and he is alone right now. I know you are in Hell right now, but I'm giving you this tough love shit because I don't want your life to fall anymore apart. You're losing your family, you're losing yourself, and if you keep drinking like you do, you'll lose more."

Mike was listening, but he let his head hang down as the words soaked through his skin like peroxide, burning as if he was one giant open sore.

"I don't want to see what happened with you and Rocky happen to you and Wes..."

Mike had had three boys and now he had one chance left with Wes and he was blowing it. Rocky had chosen his Mom once he hit ten and cut off all contact with his father. He had moved to British Columbia with a basketball scholarship last Mike had heard. In Drew's mind, the moment Wes turned 18, he would take off if Mike and Kim didn't smarten up. It was a good thing Wes had people like Alli and Drew to turn to or else he would be up stream completely without a paddle.

"Look," sighing, Mike finally spoke and drew his eyes up to Drew's. He couldn't believe the kid he used to live with in high school had grown up so responsibly. Of course, there had bee plenty of bumps along the way, but all in all, Drew was a success story. "I hear you, but I'll do this my way, okay? When your kid dies in front of you, when you have to pick out Jewel's casket," Drew's face contorted at the split second thought and searched for something wooden to knock, choosing his skull quickly. "You tell me what to do, but until then, just feed me enchiladas, alright?"

Drew nodded hesitantly. He had tried and he would try again some other time. Standing up, he went to check on his dinner in the oven, taking another swig of beer as he did.

"You send Jewel to that therapist?" Mike asked, desperate for the attention to not be cast over him anymore.

"I'm looking for a paediatric therapist actually." Drew told him openly. He wasn't ashamed. Even if he could give Jewel everything she needed, he would still want her to see someone. He was a bit believer in therapy, but jewel's mom had also told Drew when she was in the hospital that she wanted their daughter to see someone. "My mom thinks I should enlist the help of Bianca." He lifted his eyes and hummed at the crazy thought.

"DeSousa? She's a shrink?"

"No. She owns all those Zumba gyms around Canada." She definitely wasn't the troubled girl she was in high school anymore. "My mom and her still talk a lot and she thinks a maternal figure would be good for Jewel."

"Probably would." Mike replied, eying Drew's beer bottle like it was a beautiful woman walking down an empty street.

"Yeah, well I haven't talked to her in years. I don't know her anymore. She might not be what Jewel needs and I'm not rolling the dice." He shook his head, the idea seeming like just another one of his Mom's weird ploys.

"Maybe she would be."

"No offence, Dallas, you're in no position to gives advice." He laughed, hoping to move on to something that wasn't a confusing topic for either of them.

**3: It takes an ocean not to break**

Mika was circling the large dining room table, setting the cutlery down properly along with the new black placemats that looked an awful lot like the old ones. Sadie was in the other room, giggling loudly as her grandfather tickled her stomach. Mike tried to replay her online chat with Nolan Goldsworthy over in her head, but she hadn't yet committed it to memory. It was weird, him talking to her out of the blue, especially since they had never acknowledged each other before. He was a skater kid who spent most of his time being invisible in black. He was older than she was too and their paths so rarely crossed. He was cute though. He didn't look anything at all like Luke and she liked that about him.

"Damnit, Michelle. My parents are here." She heard her stepfather hiss at her mother in the kitchen. Mika couldn't concentrate on her own thoughts now, not when the makings of a domestic dispute were rumbling in the next room. Mika would always take her mom's side in a fight, but mostly, she just wanted to find any flaw in Luke and her mom's marriage in order to exploit it and turn it into a reason for her mom to go back to Zig. Mika stopped what she was doing, clutching the last few placemats to her sweater covered chest, and listened intently.

"Luke, we have had this conversation before."

"Yeah, I know, so why do we have to have it again?"

"You alluded to the fact that Zig has been on welfare before in front of Mika." Michelle's voice ached, exhausted of having to be the referee between everyone in her family. When she and Luke were first engaged, Zig promised to be respectful and, in return, Luke promised the same, but both had seemed to fallen flat on their word.

"Is that what Mika told you?" He tried not to raise his voice, but it was proving difficult. "I made a joke about food stamps, I was referencing to the fact that he didn't pay child support for a long time."

"It was nine months and it was because he truly was broke." Michelle defended. It hadn't exactly been an easy time for her either, but she was passed it now. At the time, it made her wildly upset, but she couldn't hold a grudge any longer. Zig had felt like such a loser back them, he wasn't just spitefully not paying and being a deadbeat father. She knew that and she wished Luke hadn't thrown that in his face. "And Zig told me. He called me." Michelle corrected.

"He called you? Shit! What is he fucking ten years old?"

Michelle shushed her husband loudly, praying his parents wouldn't hear him. The Baker's seemed to be naturally talented at eavesdropping.

"He is Mika's father and he felt disrespected, it sounds like he was...I'd like you to apologize."

Before the conversation could escalate any more, Sadie ran in all the smiles and braided hair.

"When is dinner ready? We're hungry." She called out, looking at her mother as Luke picked her up in her arms and kissed to her perpetually tepid forehead.

"Soon, baby. Just going to dish everything up." Michelle replied, the argument with Luke still heavy on her mind even if she could channel her attention the pot roast in the oven.

With her head low, Mika walked into the kitchen to return the left over placemats to their rightful cupboard. She glared at Luke for a quick second, catching his eyebrows furrow at her questionably. He didn't know what he had done now to piss her off.

"Mika, can you take Sadie to wash her hands before dinner?" He asked, putting the girl back down on the kitchen floor.

"Come on, Sades." Mika answered only to her sister, taking the little blond's hand and heading towards the small washroom.

"Hey, have you said hi to your grandparents yet?" Michelle asked, stirring the pot of potatoes on the stove top.

"They're not my grandparents." Simply, she grumbled and left to help Sadie.  
Mike stayed close to her Mom at the dinner table, trying to avoid the eyes of either Baker men at the heads of the table. She reached across the table for a roll only to have Mrs. Baker shake her head at her, her passive aggressive smile making the scolding seem kind somehow.

"We have to say grace first." Pastor Baker told her, surprised that he had to since they had been seeing one another for dinner once a week since Mika was in elementary school.

Mika snatched her hand back and sat on it, already wishing to be excused.

"Do you want to say it?" The Pastor eagerly tried, hoping she would agree. He loved that Mika came to church most Sundays, but wished she would get more involved with the youth group and Sunday school. They could force Sadie since she was young and their son's biological child, but Mika was a different case.

"No, thank you. It's okay." Meekly, Mika shook her head and declined.

"Come on, Mika, go ahead." Luke chimed in, smiling proudly at her.

"No, it's really okay." Anxiously, she sighed this time, feeling the room shrink.

"I'll do it!" Sadie squealed, sitting by her father and throwing her hand up over her head with enthusiasm.

The Pastor was still waiting on Mika though, so she removed her hand from underneath her butt and chose to just be honest. She reached for the roll and put it down on her already full plate.

"Let Sadie do it, okay? I'm not actually religious."

Nobody moved or gasped, but Mika swore she could hear them all reacting like Shakespearean actors.

"Since when?" The Pastor kept going, but Luke's attention was already on his lap. He just hoped she wouldn't tell his parents that she had thrown her Bible in a waste basket.

"I don't know, always?" Mika hadn't grown up religious like the Baker family. She was christened in a Russian temple because her dad's mom wanted her to be, but that was the start and end of her religious life. She only attended church on some Sundays because Luke pretty much corralled her out of the house like a sheep. "I'm just figuring out what I believe."

"Well, you should come to one of my Tuesday lessons. It's kids mostly your age." The Pastor began, all his attention on Mika as if no one else was at the table. "Just to try."

"I don't know. My dad isn't religious and he's fine, so..."

As if she could read her sister's mind, little Sadie started to recite the grace she had learned by heart from her Aunt Becky. Her hands were folded and head bowed. Mika's mind was busy as everyone listened. She thought about her dad and hoped he wasn't on a date, she thought about Nolan and what his deal was, and then she thought about God and wondered what his master plan was because, so far, she was not enjoying the journey.

Practically as soon as she was finished her last bite, Mika excused herself. She said she had homework to finish, but took to her phone once she was up in her bedroom. She stared at her Dad's number on her screen a moment and typed out "come pick me up" to send him, but deleted it after a moment of contemplation. Both her parents had carried on from their former family and she needed to as well. Mika opened up FaceRange on her phone as soon as she was curled up in her window sill and happily messaged Nolan back.


End file.
